Dragon's Call: My Father's Voice
by BadLuckVixen13
Summary: Balinor is dead and something odd is happening to Merlin's magic. After a mishap on the training field, Merlin runs home to Ealdor for healing, help, and food.


Arthur wouldn't understand. How could he? He was raised in battle and turmoil... to kill since the day he was born._No man was worth his tears_, he'd said... as if that macho bollocks was supposed to make him feel better. Merlin wanted to tell to add a nice helping of punches, a knife to the heart, and burn him at the stake and see if _that _would be worth his tears. There was too much welling up inside him as he watched Kilgarrah knock horses aside as if they were wooden toys. Arthur had fallen in a flash of fire and everything had exploded in his heart.

_Deep within yourself... you must find the voice that you and Kilgarrah share..._

Merlin was lost to some deep call, some deep instinct and reaction that he couldn't help. Too much death, too much guilt, too much... too much trust that he couldn't... that couldn't truly possess, that he couldn't return. So helpless, afraid, alone, angry, infuriated enough to wish all of Camelot, all of the world, to fall to ash and silence. He felt it, but he wasn't sure if it was his own or Kilgarrah's pain. Memories that weren't his flickered behind his eyelids and in the cold middle ground of the night. Children drowned, dragons slaughtered, killed, eggs smashed, families torn a part in madness and grief. The helplessness... and the cold dark cave to which he was confined by sorcerers that died b the very hand that had commanded them... Yeas of hearing the world above but never seeing sunlight... never seeing the wide open sky again. The call to Kilgarrah was a deep pain yelling at him. He supposed he understood what it meant to speak to the dragon as kin: kin in bloodshed and isolation. Merlin had felt more alone staring up at the dragon, watching Arthur crash, and knights being burned to ash than he had in his entire life.

_Do not make me responsible for the death of my noble breed, _Kilgarrah pleaded. But all Merlin could see was the courtyard littered with bodies. The trust, the hope to unite Albion and return magic, the nights in the dragon's cave hearing him speak of a noble place where he could at once belong. He'd heard his father's dying words, and the feeling of the dragon's chains breaking under the strike of the sword... But he could see the darkness of losing everything you loved and being trapped beneath the palace and aiding someone that was practically protecting the man who'd done it.

He lifted the spear, thrust it forward, but did not strike. A dragon's heart is on it's left side... not its right, yet Merlin did not strike for either, just in feigning. Moments ticked by and he couldn't understand why he at once wanted to murder Kilgarrah but couldn't... He supposed because he was responsible for it all. He'd released Kilgarrah, he'd let Balinor die... he'd been so weak and frightened and utterly helpless... If Kilgarrah was to die, Merlin would have to die as well as what was a Dragon Lord without the existence of Dragon, and where would he have been if not for Kilgarrah's guidance?

"_Go!_" He yelled. "Leave! If you _ever_ attack Camelot again-I will kill you!"

The dragon nodded, yet Merlin wasn't sure to whom he was speaking. In part to Kilgarrah, yet... so much of what he was saying was directed at himself. Hadn't he unleashed the dragon that had attacked Camelot? Wasn't he responsible? Did he want Camelot to-

He jumped away from that poisonous thought and dropped the staff.

"I have shown you mercy," He said. "Now you must do the same to others..."

Kilgarrah told him that what he had shown is what he would be... Merlin didn't know if he wanted that or not. As he stared into the night sky, he felt the world go black and had every thought to pick up the spear and stab himself through the heart with it. His eyes blurred with tears and the scream and sob was pushing at the back of his throat. Arthur had woken up and interrupted it all, the scream and roar of agony. He heard the prince cough and schooled his face into a slight smile to tell him the lie that would keep everything as it once was... The walk back to Camelot was silent and as Merlin entered Gaius' chambers he walked past the old man, shaking his head and stalking to his room. Gaius tried not to interrupt him but peaked in to see how he was doing in general. Merlin lay curled on his side, staring at the wooden dragon his father had carved him the night before he died.

The next few days were spent working, digging holes to bury the dead, fixing the castle. Arthur had called him more than anything, but he was unavailable. When it all calmed down, he reported to the annoyed prince. His room in dissarray. Merlin didn't bother to comment, he didn't say anything, he didn't even bother to wake him in his usual way. Let the Prince sleep if he wanted, at least Merlin would get his work done in peace and wouldn't have to stop to pretend like everything was okay...

"Merlin... when exactly were you going to wake me?" Arthur asked, irritatedly.

Merlin only acknowledged him by throwing the drapes open to let in the sunlight and say, "Good Morning."

Arthur flinched at the clipped tone used as Merlin continued to clean the room. Arthur frowned, scooting to the edge of the bed where his breakfast lay. A full plate unlike what Merlin had been bringing him recently in his attempt to keep him "fighting fit". It was Merlin's diligence that had disturbed him more than the food. He watched his servant move about, laying out clothing readying the washing bowl and the like before pouring a goblet of water and wine to sit at Arthur's bedside.

"Will that be all?"

Arthur frowned, "Have you polished my armor?"

"Yes, sire."

"My chainmail needs mending."

"I mended it last night."

"The horses are prepared? Stables mucked out."

"Yes, sire."

Arthur's eyes narrowed Merlin who didn't bother to disguise anything. His expression was blank... no, there just was no expression. Merlin's eyes were darker than he'd realized...

"Merlin... you look..."

Merlin waited, there was no snide comment to help him along but Arthur couldn't find anything else to say.

"Are you alright? Don't tell me you're still mopping over Balinor."

Merlin said nothing as Arthur got up and socked him in the shoulder, "Don't be such a girl, Merlin."

No response and then Arthur got upset, it wasn't like Merlin, "Well if you're going to be moody, maybe a few more chores will help you cheer up. You'll be joining us on the pitch today."

Merlin said nothing but, "Yes, sire."

Arthur watched him from the corner of his eye as Merlin helped him with his armor. There was something empty and furious in Merlin today that he just couldn't place. When they arrived on the pitch, he ordered the other to get dressed as an attack dummy, he did so willingly, still standing as if he had not a care in the world.

"Go easy on our poor dummy, he can barely defend himself as it is..."

A laugh was shared, but beyond that tin helmet, Merlin made no sound but breathing. He felt like he was choking in silence and everything was getting dark, he didn't know what was happening, but the flash of Pendragon red and Arthur's face was infuriating.

"Pay attention, Merlin or we might end up taking your head off."

The swoosh of a sword, echoed through the wind and Merlin stepped out of the way, ducking as the next one was aimed at his head. His shield flew up to block, his sword clanged against another and it was all so far away. There was something else taking over or rather it wasn't him. He wasn't doing anything, still seeing his father's dying face, still hearing those words he'd spoken to Kilgarrah, still feeling those memories of that Pendragon symbol billowing in the sky over blood stained courtyards and ash. The banners in the sky, the screaming, the terror, and the rage welling up with the magical blood seeping into the concrete. He felt it thrumming beneath his feet, is this what it meant to be kin to the dragons or was this his own power. There was someone else there, someone else there watching him and helping him. He felt someone he should have known, another kinsmen. Maybe his father's brother or sister?... Someone he would have called family...

Arthur wasn't sure what was going on, but for some reason Merlin was actually defending himself... And doing it well. That couldn't have been normal. But it was happening, he watched it and the Knights were quiet around them. The only sound was Merlin's sword clanging against some nobles, the sound of the shield meeting metal.

"What's... going on?... you said he was terrible."

Arthur's eyes narrowed, watching Merlin dance around the field, but he didn't attack, it was all defensive movement, avoiding him and stepping out of the way. It was an amazingly defensive movement that only belonged to experienced fighters. He wanted to blame it on the fact that Merlin tended to runaway more often than not, but the truth was that Merlin never ran away, he was always there and the lightness on his feet wouldn't have come from just running. There was more to it than that... much more to it than that. Arthur heard the rhythmic clanging or sword and defense but it was a little faster than he expected of Galiant. He knew the knight was slow but powerful in his attacks, but this rhythm, though he was attacking, wasn't set by him.

It was Merlin's meeting his attacks before he'd even gone through the full swing.

All Merlin heard was his own slow breathing. The clanging of metal did nothing for him. In a flash of something like consciousness and an awareness outside of himself, Merlin's grip changed and he circled his blade around the knight's. The rotation was in his wrist, he felt the knight's grip loosen in his hand and try to gain control of the sweeping motion. Once, twice, and up so the sword went flying into his other hand, Merlin watched the look of surprise on his face. But he didn't feel the triumph, he didn't feel anything but the curse of blood beneath his feet. He'd never felt Camelot like this before... A shrill screaming and the sound of dragon wings rushed through his mind, blotting out all else. The pitch went quiet and the knight was shocked before pushing him over.

"What the hell is this?!"

Merlin didn't say anything only falling to the ground without much resistance. He stared up into the eyes of Galiant's father who had helped in the Purge, running a woman down to her knees, raping her, killing her... The man above him was angry, glaring down at him with his sword to his throat. Merlin didn't move, he didn't seem to care either. The helmet had flown off and now Merlin was staring somewhere else. How could he stay here in Camelot? How could he have blamed the dragon for doing what he'd done? He wanted to do it now...

"You don't even have the decency to look at me?!"

It was more accurate that Merlin didn't have the stomach to look at him.

"Sir Galiant, restrain yourself," Arthur said approaching Merlin. "Or I will have to restrain you. Do not be upset because a servant has managed to disarm you... Show some sense of humility."

He yielded and Merlin still didn't move. Arthur yanked him up, his eyes still focused nowhere.

"Retrieve your helmet and we'll pick up again. Sir Hyril you're up."

Merlin did as asked and the next match up ended as much of the same. Hyril was a lot bigger than him or Galiant. Bigger than Arthur, but so long as Merlin moved as quick as he was, it didn't matter. In him he saw his father helping a few druids through the castle gates under the cover of darkness. Women and children, a few men... he was a traitor like Merlin, or at least his father was. There was no anger only fear and a stolen kiss. He felt the pulse of something in Hyril's blood and felt druid kin... The woman whom he'd kissed was Hyril's mother... a druid woman but Hyril had no magic.

"Seems like all of your running away Merlin has made you light on your feet!"

Hyril was divested of his mace as it caught around Merlin's sword and he yanked hard. He shook his head, it was more than that. A lot more than that, he'd felt it like a shiver up his spine. He felt those eyes. Those eyes were empty, not paying attention to anything, instead staring off unfocused into something inside him, or something outside him. He felt those cold blue-grey eyes stirring around in his blood. Hyril had been raised as a knight and been trained to the end of his ability. His stamina was not to be questioned, yet Merlin's breathing was so slow, slower than Hyrils anyway. They broke for a break and a chance to regain their pride and a sense of psychic distance as Arthur came to Merlin who didn't sit, but stood and stared off into the sky.

"Pray tell Merlin, what on earth else have you been hiding from me? You could barely hold a sword without trembling..."

Merlin didn't answer after a moment, "Maybe I didn't want to embarrass you."

"Embarrass me?" Arthur gwaffed. "As if you ever could."

Merlin said nothing, but Arthur took him up on his offer deciding that he would be the next opponent. Merlin was divested of his shield as Arthur didn't want to get one.

"Come on then Merlin, _embarrass me._"

Arthur would never realize that the Merlin that had spoken to him was not the one he would be fighting. The clumsy, silly Merlin was not the one he would be facing. Those words had been a reflex to snark, Merlin's reflexes were more than that. He'd been trained to kill since birth, yet even his breathing wasn't as calm as Merlin's as they fought. Merlin dodged him, side stepped him, parried, blocked, holding his own against someone much stronger than him. It was amazing after seeing Merlin get pounded on by Hyril and Galiant before. He didn't think the other should have had the ability to stay standing, yet there he was, evading Arthur's attack and proving him right. Merlin was anticipating his movements making the flow of the battle faster than he'd intended, almost faster than Arthur was prepared for. No, he wasn't just defending anymore there was an aggression there It was subtle but it was there, he felt it in the push, and heard it in the slide of metal against metal.

"Tell me Merlin, since when did you get so good at this? Practicing at night? Have you been feigning incompetence all this time?"

Merlin didn't reply, only stepping out of Arthur's attack and catching him off guard, striking upwards, Arthur's blade tipped his helmet off his head, barely ruffling his bangs as it went flying up, Arthur fell forward and Merlin's sword found its way under Arthur's chin. In his eyes, Arthur could see nothing, but when Merlin looked down at him he did not see Arthur, but his father and the blood on his hands. He felt it running through him, everything in him and around him crying for blood, but the vision did not last long. He saw Igraine on her birthing/death bed too, suffering to bring into the world, just as much a victim of Uther as Arthur was, as he was. Everything still called for blood but seconds later, the sword fell from his hand, he took off his armor and walked to the edge of the field. The guards were rushing in, the knights were rushing at him, but he was too fast for that. He was out of the practice wear, it was put away and he ran through the corridors and out of the city. No notes to Gaius, no wave to Gwen, he just ran.

Arthur stood up moments later and ran after him, he lost him in the corridor but went to Gaius's chambers. He trembled at what he'd seen as his heart rate slowed. For a moment Merlin had looked ready to kill him, but something had stopped him. Something had told him to calm. He'd felt it when Merlin saw it, a great thrumming in his head and the sound a baby crying and a woman's dying breath.

"Yes, Sire."

"Merlin's gone," Arthur told him. "Gaius, is there something I should know about Merlin?"

An eyebrow rose and his stomach dropped, "You'll have to be more specific sire-"

"He just bested me with a sword...and Hyril, and Galiant and bolted."

Gaius blinked, "Where did he go?"

Arthur threw up his hands, "He's been acting mopey all day!"

Gaius sighed and took a seat, "I would say that whatever Merlin is dealing with, he hasn't shared with me... He's probably just left the palace wall. He will come back."

Arthur didn't like the idea of waiting, but he supposed it was all he could do. Uther had been informed of the situation and demanded his presence. Arthur managed to smooth it over as a matter of adrenaline and underestimation for his skills in teaching Merlin to wield the sword.

"At least I won't have to worry about him getting himself killed."

Uther had taken it lightly and told him to continue training and to lecture his manservant about the issue of running off. Arthur was more concerned if Merlin would ever come back. When he'd dropped the sword, there was a haunted look about him that made him think that there was something much darker happening than a simple adrenaline rush.

Merlin didn't stop running when he broke the palace wall. He didn't stop in the Darkling woods, or near the mountains, he didn't stop running, even through the night. A bright orb of light lit his way home. In two days, he rushing through the valley. Birds flew up in the disturbance but he didn't hear anything. He didn't see anything, just running, running faster as he entered the outskirts of Ealdor and there were people there he recognized and recognized him.

"Merlin?" someone asked, but he didn't hear them, running towards Hunith's home as the door opened and falling into a heap at her feet.

"Merlin?! Merlin!" Was all he heard as everything went black. Hunith was screaming, turning him over and into her arms, begging him to speak, but no words came as darkness fell around him. He'd made it home, his heart thudded in his chest hard, but it calmed the longer he slept.

When he woke up, he was stretched out in his old bed with Hunith sitting at his bedside, pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. Apparently, he was running a fever. The smell of food wafted through the air and though his stomach growled, he couldn't stomach the idea of eating. His legs were burning, they felt numb and aching.

"Merlin, can you hear me?" Hunith asked. "You scared me half to death collapsing like that. Mary said you were running as if your life depended on it, what's happened? Has Arthur found out or..."

Merlin's eyes rolled to see her and for the first time, since Balinor died, it was quiet. He figured that was because he was far away from anything having to with the Great Purge of Uther. Hunith sighed watching him.

"Balinor," he said in explanation and Hunith froze. A deep dread coming over her then and breathed as he sat up, weak and trembling.

"I'll get you something to eat, you're as skinny as twig!"

Merlin waited, he knew his mother would not avoid the issue. He knew that she would never not give him an answer to all the questions he had and if she couldn't answer them at least comfort him. She came back with two modest bowls of soup and a loaf of bread for the two of them to share. He'd managed to swing his legs over, ignoring the fever and taking the bowl as she took a seat on the old chair he'd made ages ago.

"You've... met him then?"

"He's dead," Merlin said. "Died... in my arms..."

Hunith bit her lip and they sipped soup for a little longer before Merlin burst out, setting his bowl aside, "Why didn't you ever tell me?!"

Hunith watched him, her poor boy. So confused and angry, so scared and lonely in Camelot.

"I wanted to protect you... Uther would have killed you, as he still could kill you now with or without your magic."

Merlin shook his head, "I deserved to know. Didn't I deserve... all this time... you never mentioned him. You never told me anything. With all the villagers gossiping about us, you, about him. That was all I ever heard, that's all I ever knew. Didn't I at least deserve to know something?"

"Merlin," she said. "I always wanted to tell you, I just wanted to wait until you were older... So you could understand."

"You didn't think that when I left for Camelot that was a good time to tell me that my father was alive, he was dragonlord and the reason he wasn't with us was because o the man that I'd ended up serving? Why did you send me to Camelot?"

Hunith sighed.

"Why send me there knowing that... that it was his fault that it's been this way? How he felt about people like me? How he would feel about me? Why send me there I don't understand."

"I didn't want you to stay here with all the rumors, the whispers, I wanted to give you a chance to live so I sent you to Gaius...I knew that Gaius could give you guidance since balinor wasn't able. I understood why he left, why we couldn't go with him... I was just thinking of your future. With everything that's been going on in Essetir, you weren't any safer here than you would be in Camelot. At least there, no one knew."

"But I..." Merlin sighed, his anger deflating. "But I can't keep up with this... lying to everyone, to Arthur... especially not now..."

"What do you mean?"

"I can... I can... When he... when he died, he told me to find the voice that Kilgarrah and I share in order to tame him. To speak to him as kin... There was something that he missed telling me or the power of a dragonlord along with mine as done something that it's not supposed to."

Hunith frowned not quite understanding as he slid off the bed and curled up against her legs, resting his head in her lap. She knew then that it was weighing heavily on him and when the words started, they didn't stop. It all came flowing out. All the knowledge, seeing, the screaming that richocheted through him when he was in Camelot, almost killing Arthur... He continued on and on about how he let the dragon go, how he didn't kill him, how he understood and how terrible he'd felt about allowing the attack on camelot to happen. The tears came soon after and Hunith wasn't sure how long he cried, but when it died down into sniffled and soft whimpering, her fingers threaded through his hair, stroking.

"Merlin," she said. "Merlin, I know it hurts... Your father would be proud of you. To see you now..."

Merlin sniffled in response.

"But you can't avoid Camelot forever... It's your destiny."

"Can't I stay?"

"Not forever," Hunith told him. "Arthur needs you..."

"What about me?"

"You need Arthur too."

"I need him to dress himself at least once in his life."

Hunith laughed and the sound washed over him gently enough that it was comforting. She asked him questions about how he was doing and why he was so skinny, he answered and made her scowl and laugh at some of the stories he told about his dealings with Arthur.

"You stole his sausages? And a chicken leg?"

"I was hungry and he was getting fat. If I put another hole in that belt, he'll run out of leather."

She laughed and they spent the night that way in peace. She set him off on his way the next day with a sack full of food for his travels and mended clothing. She kissed his cheek and told him to be strong, to never forget what he was aiming for, and to come home more often.

"Tell him that you're my son and I demand to see you more often."

He laughed and nodded, "I will. I love you."

"Stop in the middle of the night, no traveling and here's a cloak in case it gets cold."

He smiled at her, kissed her cheek and left. She waved him goodbye from the edge of Ealdor as he disappeared into the forest. He did stop over night so that the two days he'd made it up turned into five days heading back. He stared at the walls of Camelot with apprehension, too a breath and stepped forward. Everything extended back through town and phantoms were everywhere, but he kept walking until he made it to Gaius' chambers.

"Merlin! Where have you been?"

"I went home."

Gaius went quiet as the door opened with Arthur looking more than upset.

"God, is he back yet, the new-Merlin!"

He didn't flinch looking at Arthur, seeing his mother and his father side by side, but also the glowing inside him that would have to be let free.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"I went home, my father died."

Arthur winced, feeling terrible for being hostile as Merlin took off his cloak and set his bag down.

"I'm... sorry to hear that."

Merlin took a breath, glancing at the wooden dragon standing vigile in the corner of the stairs leading to his room and found some means to smile. It was bittersweet but it was better than the screaming that still echoed in the distance.

"It's okay, he's never really gone... I've got his voice."


End file.
